


Princess

by bravinto



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/pseuds/bravinto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who could have thought, who could have guessed what Hermann Gottlieb’s choice of a pet name might be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Princess

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by conversations with my friends, you know who you are :D

Who could have thought, who could have guessed what Hermann Gottlieb’s choice of a pet name might be?!. 

Newt tried a lot of names on him, mostly for fun and for kicks, without much success, however. From the most trite and commonplace (“If you continue to call me ‘baby’ I will cal you ‘toddler’”) to the more sophisticated (“you beautiful tesseract you” only earned him an eyeroll), and finally to the downright ridiculous (“Hey, delicious slice of honey and lemon pizza!” “What a relief, I can finally compete with desserts in your system of values”), the reaction he got varied from annoyed to amused. 

Maybe, Newt thought, maybe they were guys who just didn’t do pet names. Maybe they were tough, hardcore, manly, if somewhat – _hella_ \- nerdy men. Except no, that wasn’t true, because Hermann totally did pet names, and aced it, too. Of course, it didn’t happen often, but in the heat of the moment, he could deliver the most thrilling words that made Newt feel he was held even closer, closer than physically possible. 

“Lieber Newton”, an overwhelmed whisper at his ear, and Newt’s heart would clench with unbearable tenderness. 

“Verehrter…”, and he quivered, breath catching. 

“Du bist mein Stern…”, and he wanted to burrow deep, to drown in the reverent way it was said. 

How the heck Hermann managed to pull it off was a mystery. That one time Newt attempted to bring his German to bed, ‘Süßigkeit’ only sent Hermann into a fit of hysterical laughter (not bad in itself, always great to see him laugh, so _adorable_ , but not the desired effect, either). 

“So I forgot how to German, what!” Newt pouted. 

Maybe he wasn’t succeeding because his attempts lacked Hermann’s sincerity, but he just couldn’t help it, saying the cheesiest sentiments possible. Maybe he was too post-modernist and self-ironic about it all. He needed to go a bit more Stanislavsky, perhaps. 

He was close to giving up on it when the revelation came unexpected on a fateful evening when they were routinely bickering across the lab. 

“Hey, is it a three or a five you just wrote?” Newt asked lazily. 

He had several minutes of idleness to badger Hermann before his test would be ready. 

“it’s a wreath product, not that you would know anything about it”, Hermann replied, irritated. 

“Of course I do!”, Newt lied. “Kinda hard to recognize when you write it, though”. 

“As if I’ve never been asked to decipher your scribbles!”, Hermann bristled. 

“Sensitive much, princess? 

All of a sudden Hermann’s face took a peculiar shade of maroon. 

“You are crossing the line, Geiszler!”, he barked and stormed out of the lab. 

“Geiszler”. Not even “Doctor Geiszler”. Must be bad, Newt cringed, I guess I fucked up, unclear how exactly. It was either a huge mess or a gold mine. So he bit his tongue when a couple of minutes later Hermann crept back in to collect his laptop he’d forgotten amidst the drama, trying to cover up his unmistakable embarrassment with more fuming indignation. Newt wanted to shout the offending word at him again, but didn’t because it could lead him to being banished from Hermann’s proximity for weeks, and also because it seemed cruel. Making amends first, research later. 

Hermann didn’t return for the rest of the night. Newt decided to give him some time to cool down before trying to make up, and retreated to his own, cluttered and rarely slept in room, which was more of their shared storage at that point. He went to bed with a gnawing feeling of _oh shit_. 

He couldn’t sleep well, he rarely did, especially on his own, so eventually he got up early. He took a shower, pondering on the implications of the last night’s incident. What’s so wrong about being called a princess? It wasn’t like Hermann’s masculinity was so fragile, so this wasn’t, hopefully, some inherently misogynist outburst. Huh. 

All in all, Newt was ready at Hermann’s door with a steaming cup of coffee and a tray of chocolates about forty minutes before his dork of a boyfriend’s alarm clock was supposed to go off. Newt figured it was the best time to come because, even though Hermann was definitely not a morning person, the thing he hated most about getting up was the harsh awakening, not the early hour itself. He was always in a better mood if you managed to wake him up gently. So Newt touched the door (it opened at once – unlocked?.. He didn’t really think it would be so easy, did it mean Hermann had expected him to come last night? Not so offended, after all?..) and walked in. 

Predictably, Hermann was fast asleep, curled up in their nest of blankets. Newt set the tray on the bedside table, so that the smell of the coffee could reach Hermann’s nostrils and nudge his brain awake, and quietly slid under the covers behind him. Newt wrapped his arms around Hermann’s chest and nuzzled the soft fuzz on the back of his head. It was so good to just be near, in the warmth of the bed, listening to Hermann’s soft snoring, feeling his calm heartbeat so close; Newt could almost let go and drift off himself, but no. He had a purpose. 

“Doctor Gottlieb, open your eyes, please”, he hummed at Hermann’s ear. “I sold my soul to Tendo for this chocolate”. 

No reaction. 

“Doctor Gottlieb, please come to the take-off site, we are launching the rocket in five, four, three, two…”

That got him a half-hearted swat of the hand and a mumble. Then, with a sudden wave of inspiration, Newt crawled over to face him and said: 

“Wake up, _princess_ ”. 

Hermann opened his eyes and blinked at him, sleepily, and then _bloomed_ , that big, beautiful smile lighting up the room, his whole face going pink, all limp and warm and utterly happy in Newt’s arms. 

“Oh, about that…”, he muttered in a thick morning voice, and Newt would be damned if what he saw was not shy eyelash batting. 

“Do you like it?” Newt asked. 

“Well, I must admit… that I do”. 

“Bingo”, Newt whispered and leaned in to kiss him all over. 

Who could have thought that this ‘serious and grumpy’ wannabe, this fierce warrior, this space lover and utter nerd would melt completely and shine like a Christmas tree when subjected to a simple ‘princess’? Newt found it weird, really, but also fitting perfectly, and either way, he would say it a thousand times just to see this miracle unfold. 


End file.
